Do ya think I'm sexy?
by Good old fashioned lover girl
Summary: Dialogue between John Lennon and Paul McCartney. Set in early Beatle years. Slash.


"Paaaaaul."

"Yes?"

"Do you think I'm sexy?"

"Bloody hell. Are you drunk?"

"A little…"

"Only a little?"

"I don't know. I fucking forgot about everything. Where the bloody hell am I?"

"You're in a hotel room. I was at a party flirting with a very beautiful bird when Ringo came running like crazy saying you were freaking out acting like crazy, then you started to shout my name like a fucking desperate needy little boy that's about to faint in any second. Then, you actually fainted. We had to carry you to the car while you were sleeping. We took you to the hotel room, I placed you in the bed and stayed with you this whole time, and now you just woke up."

"Oh. Interesting… Just curious… Which country am I in?"

"Da hell?"

"No. I'm fucking serious. Tell me."

"We're in Venezuela."

"Mmm… Interesting… I don't remember Brian saying anything about…Fuck… What's the name of the country, again?"

"Venezuela."

"Oh… So we're in Africa, right?"

"Of course, my love."

"Aw, that's cute, Macca."

"What?"

"When you call me 'my love'…This is the first time I go to Africa, I think… It is our first time here, right Macca?"

"Nope… Don't you remember last month when were playing on Iran?"

"Iran? I thought that bloody country was located in Europe. And I also thought we were playing in the United States. Bloody hell, why can't I remember anything? What the fuck did I smoke?"

"You're so fucking idiot."

"Whoa, watch it, McCartney!"

"You smoked something and you don't remember what was it?"

"Well… That guy seemed nice and he was like '_Heeey, smoke this, mate! It's better than weed!'_"

"And you fucking believed him? Johnny, you and I both know that there isn't anything we can smoke that's better than weed."

"Don't blame me! I was already drunk, and I think I smoked other things I can't even remember."

"You're so fucking idiot."

"You said that already."

"You can remember this, but you can't remember what the hell did you smoke?"

"Certainly,"

"Oh, and just for you to know: Iran is located in Asia. Last month we played in USA. You have never gone to Africa, and you aren't there now. Venezuela is located in Latin America."

"What the hell?"

"And we aren't in Venezuela. You have never gone to Latin America, either. We're on Germany."

"Can you repeat everything again? I'm confused."

"You're so fucking retarded that you believed me when I told you we were in Venezuela, which is actually in Latin America; you thought it was on Africa, and I kept along playing with you. Then you actually believed me when I told you that last month we played in Iran, that it's on Asia, and you thought it was on Europe, but I told ya it was located on Africa."

"You're so bloody mean! Can't you see I'm in drugs and I can't remember anything? Anyway… Where are we? I forgot."

"Cuba."

"Cuba? Where the fuck is that?"

"You idiot. We're on Germany."

"Right… Hey, forget all that shit. You didn't answer my question."

"Which one?"

"Do you think I'm sexy? Well, I obviously know I am, and I know you think I am. You told me yesterday."

"So you remember that but you don't remember what you smoke or where you are located?"

"Oh, son. How can I forget seeing you serving a cup of vodka, mumbling: '_Ohhh John, you're so sexy. Didn't you know?'"_

"I can't believe I actually left that beautiful bird to stay with you hearing you saying that shit."

"Oh please dear, you _know _you don't like birds, 'cause you're a fucking queer, and you're in love with me."

"What the bloody hell are you saying? You say odd things when you're drunk."

"I remember what other thing happened last night, when you, mister, were a little drunk."

"So you remember me being drunk but you can't remember what you smoked?"

"Who cares what the fuck did I smoke? It doesn't matter."

"What if you smoked something…deathly?"

"Oh my sweet Paulie, you're worried about me. How cute."

"How can I not be? You're my queer best friend!"

"I'm not the queer, you are. You admitted it last night, when we were about to… you know…"

"That makes you fucking queer too. And I do remember when you were like_ 'Mmm… Paulie, I'm queer for you, you know? Oh sweet Lord, you're so fucking perfect.'"_

"Oh yeah? What about you saying _'Mmmmm… Johnny, you're so fucking better at this than any other bird…'"_

"Oh stop it!"

"Not until you say I'm sexy!"

"Ok. You're so freaking sexy, I love that smirk you do every time you play the guitar. Your voice is so heavenly and I shiver when you call my name or tell me something sweet. I love how connected we are, and how you tell me everything that's crossing your mind without being ashamed, and yes, I am queer for you, and I love you, and the best thing is that tomorrow you will have a hangover and will not remember what I said. Happy now?"

"Oh my Paulie, that's the cutest thing I ever heard. So, now I think I should tell you this: I pretended to be freaking out and smoking weird things because I was so jealous of that bitch you were flirting with. I pretended to faint because I wanted you to carry me to the hotel. And when you stayed with me that whole time, caressing my hair and singing softly to me, I literally felt butterflies in my stomach. I pretended to be asleep for some time, and then I did fell asleep for real a little time. When I woke up I wanted to mess a little with you; and of course I know we're on Germany, and I'm not so fucking idiot to think that Iran is in Europe and that we're on Africa… But I didn't have any bloody idea on where is located the first country you named; now I know it's in Latin America. I also have to tell you that I love how your eyes sparkle when we're together, I love how passion you put into songwriting and how you truly feel everything you write. Your eyelashes are so perfect, and also your nose… Well, you are perfect, darling. And that hair of yours… I love to stroke it softly and play with it, and your hands… I just want to hold them every single day. Oh, and I almost forgot it, I'm in love with you, and I don't care to say it: I'm queer for you, too. Oh, and yes, I am happy."

"Venezuela."

"What?"

"Venezuela. That's the name of the first country I named. You asked for it. It's actually a little country, near Colombia. Has very beautiful beaches and…"

"Holy shit, James Paul McCartney! That's all you're gonna say?"

"Of course not, silly. I was just playing with you… I still can't believe you did all of this to caught my attention just 'cause you were jealous."

"Well, you're _my _Paul. And I don't want to share those pink lips with anyone else… And… Oh my God, Paulie? Is that a tear? Awwww, is my Macca crying?"

"Oh, shut up and kiss me now John."

"Mmmm… that was good…"

"It was…"

"Ah, Paul. There's something else I need to say."

"Tell me,"

"I'm such a great actor, don't you think? I mean, you actually believed I fainted and I was smoking weird things!"


End file.
